


Keep Your Enemies Closer

by TheHeathenSlave



Category: David Bowie (Musician), Hannibal (TV), Saw (Movies), The Hunger (TV 1997)
Genre: BDSM, Blackmail, Dom/sub, F/M, Face Slapping, Hair-pulling, Humiliation, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Coercion, Torture, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 16:46:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13462368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHeathenSlave/pseuds/TheHeathenSlave
Summary: Special Agent Leila Dawson knows there's only one cure for what ails her and that's a man named Julian Priest. The only problem is the husband she long thought she lost has been keeping an eye on her longer than she's thought, not to mention a nosy little redheaded tabloid reporter.





	Keep Your Enemies Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a bunch of fandoms crossing over into one another plus an original character at the center of it all. If you don't like it, don't read it.

She stood outside of the cold, uninviting prison looking up at the long metal staircase that would take her up to the door. It was wrong to be here, especially with her profession and his relationship with the FBI. They hadn't caught Julian Priest doing anything wrong, but that didn't mean he hadn't. That didn't mean there wasn't substantial evidence to the contrary. It meant he was smart. It meant that they just didn't have the smoking gun. It was clear enough he was a murderer, or worse, but without the right amount of circumstances to bring a case against him that would win in court, there was no point in charging him. Leila was there because she knew that, but she also knew other things. From an encounter with him months before. One that she should have been able to bring him in on. One count of kidnapping, one of torture, coercion, blackmail, sexual assault...the list went on and on. Yet, she hadn't been able to. She'd enjoyed herself far too much to ever turn him in. She'd escaped, and had probably been the only victim of his to make it out of there alive. Probably only because he had wanted her to. 

Her injuries healed, and her body aching for him, she headed up the steps and stopped by the metal door. She raised a shaky hand and slowly moved it to the buzzer. The one that would alert him to a visitor and activate the camera behind her so he could see who was standing there. At first, she kept her head down, and her face away. Her mind telling her what a mistake this was, all the reasons she should not have come back. It was definitely what he wanted, but she did too. 

"Show your face." He demanded. She took a deep breath and looked up, then turned to face the camera so he could see her. She was healed up now. Strong again. It had taken months to recover from the damage he had done but she had done it, and she was back for more. "You came back." 

"I did." She said, able to hear the smile in his voice even if she couldn't see him. 

"That was foolish, Agent Dawson." 

"I'm aware of that." She replied. "So, are you going to let me in or leave me standing here in the cold?" There was a pause and the blinking red of the camera stopped. There was a loud buzz, indicating the door had been unlocked. She put her hand on the handle and pulled it back, then stepped inside and let it shut behind her. The sound loud enough that she jumped. She walked into the caged area. The place that all visitors had to stop before they were allowed in. The place where Julian would meet her and ask her if she was armed. She waited, rubbing her arms gently and trying to warm up. 

He came from the hallway, out of the shadows and stepped into the light. He looked up at her from the floor below. Then he smirked. A chill ran through her. She was terrified and aroused all at once. There was nothing more she wanted than the man who stood before her, but there was also nothing more she wanted than to run out of there screaming. This was a good sign. She wanted to test her limits and he could test all of them. Would test all of them. He'd never let her go until she was broken, and she wanted to see how much it would take to break her. 

"Are you armed?" 

"Do you think I'd come here without my gun?" She asked. 

"Did you think I was going to let you keep it?" He asked, "Remove all weapons or you are not coming in." 

She thought about it, but slid her hand into her jacket anyway and pulled her 9mm sig sauer from her pocket and held it up where he could see it. She took the clip out and dislodged the bullet that was already racked into the chamber. Then she set it all down by her feet and put her hands up. 

"Disarmed." 

"I'm going to frisk you." He warned. 

"I wouldn't expect any less than that." She said. He nodded and stepped back to press the button that would release the second door so she could come through it. Once it popped open, she pushed it so it swung back fully and started to step down the stairs towards him. When her foot hit the floor he was standing across from her quickly, staring down at her. She looked up at him. She couldn't help but tremble in fear, excitement....everything surging through her while fight or flight kicked in and she held it back. Reminded herself to breathe. He put a hand on her cheek softly. 

"Why did you come back?" He asked, stroking her skin for a moment before grabbing her by her hair violently and turning her around so her back was towards him. She cried out but didn't struggle. She knew better than that. She was in his domain now. He pulled her trench coat off easily enough and ran a hand down her back. 

"What I need, only you can give me." She said, "I also think I only escaped because you let me, why?" 

"Why what?" he asked. Once his hand was done roaming over her back searching for weapons or wires, it moved lower, to her ass. He grabbed it and squeezed tightly, pulling her close to him. His mouth right by her ear. She let out a low whine and closed her eyes. 

"Why did you let me escape." She whispered, "I'm an FBI agent. I could have charged your ass so hard you'd have never gotten out of prison." 

"But you didn't." He breathed and then chuckled darkly. He let go of her and turned her back towards him swiftly enough that she stumbled back a bit. "Strip." 

"Here?" 

"Are you questioning me?" He growled. She nodded and started to unbutton her blouse with shaky hands. She wasn't armed other than the gun she'd shown him and brought, but he had no reason to believe her. Especially since the first time she'd come there she'd been armed with more than one gun. That had been fairly brutal. He'd had to punish her for lying to him and she didn't want that again, mostly. 

"How did you know I wouldn't?" She asked and removed her blouse so she was just in her bra. Next her hands went to her skirt and she unzipped it as she kept her eyes on him. A man like Julian priest could strike at any moment for any reason and she was trying to be prepared for it even if it was nearly impossible for her to predict. 

"I didn't." He said. "Had a feeling. Stop stalling for time." At that point she hurried to get the skirt off until all she was left wearing was her bra, panties, garter belt, heels, and thigh high stockings. All black lace. He smiled and looked her over before coming towards her again. He reached up and pulled out the clip she had in her hair, letting it down. 

"What are you-"

"You have a lot of hair, wanted to make sure there wasn't a knife hidden in there." He said, "See you learned the rules well." His hand came up to the back of her neck and grabbed it tightly. Like a man would grab the scruff of an unruly animal. He started to walk and she had no choice but to go with him. It was freezing in there. She knew that he'd lead her to a nicer part of prison compound. The area he kept more heated, but she also knew the goal here was to keep her as uncomfortable as possible. At least for a while. Until she was more complacent in serving him as she had become before. 

"Wasn't too fond of your punishments last time." 

"Huh...then you shouldn't have come back." He said, "Because I do have to punish you for escaping in the first place. Thought you knew who your new Master was." 

"New? You think I had one before?" She asked. 

"I know you did." He said, and she knew he was purposefully being cryptic about it but it did unnerve her. The only man she'd had in her life before the point of coming to see him that she'd have ever called Master was Mark and he was...long since gone. The FBI had declared him legally dead to prevent the public from panicking about a serial killer on the loose. They hadn't had near enough evidence to prove this, a smear of blood, that was about it. She'd had to play the fool. The damsel in distress. The poor little wife who hadn't known that her husband was a killer. That she'd had nothing to do with it it. He'd used her, abused her, threatened her into never telling anyone who he was. The truth was much different. 

She'd known almost the whole time that he was the Jigsaw apprentice. Though she was no cold blooded killer herself, she had loved Mark deeply. More than anything. His morals on the situation were twisted. It started, at first, as blackmail. Had he not gone along with it, he would have lost everything and that included her. He'd told her almost immediately what he was doing with John Kramer. Explained what would happen if he didn't do as he was told. They'd searched over every sort of possible way out together but it seemed that they were screwed. Even with her billions of trust fund dollars, it didn't seem they could buy, scam, or manipulate their way out of this one. John Kramer had held Mark's life in his hands and Mark was against a wall. 

As time passed, the need for vigilante justice grew in him. He came to enjoy it. Appreciate what he was doing. The tests he was running. The games he was playing, the brutality of it all. Leila found herself even more attracted to him. He was dangerous. He was a killer, and would keep killing, but the only person he would never hurt was her. Certainly he had the potential, but he wouldn't, and she loved it. Got off on it. When he came home covered in blood, when he told her what he'd done. Who he had punished. As an FBI agent she wasn't in favor of cold blooded murder or justice of this type, but she understood the need for it. She understood his twisted morality. It was okay as long as she didn't do it. As long as she wasn't helping. As long as it was only him and she got to fuck a serial killer. A prolific, dangerous, FBI most wanted man. 

Of course, this hadn't ended well. Not even close. The night of the last game, the night where he was going to leave it all behind...everything covered up, not a shred of evidence to his name because he would have been believed to be dead anyway, he'd vanished. She'd never heard from him again. She'd looked. She'd even threatened a few people. Nothing had turned up. A few years into it, she even prayed for a body, but news of one never came. The law declared him dead despite her insistence that he was coming back. He was not dead. She had to play it off as if she was afraid of him, because she had to lead them to believe she was in no way an accessory to this. He'd done his job. He'd made sure she'd look innocent and keep her job. She would have rather had him by her side. Now, ten years later, she was back in the domain of another killer, someone who held very little loyalty to her and was far more dangerous. She was addicted to the danger, the humiliation, the fear, and the pain. 

"How do you know?" She whispered. He pulled open a door to one of his exam rooms and shoved her inside. She stumbled but wasn't able to recover, which was where she fell to her knees, crying out as her skin was torn open on the cold concrete floor. The door shut and she heard him approaching from behind. 

"Research has it's benefits." He said, "It is technically public record unless you are an heiress who has a shit ton of money to bury it as deep as possible. Some days, people like me, have nothing better to do." 

"I'm not buying it." She breathed, pushing her obscenely long hair back so she could clear her vision. She got to her feet, or at least attempted to, when she felt a hand on her shoulder pushing her right back down to her knees. He came in front of her at that moment and stood there. She looked up. "Anyone could...make vague statements and poke for information. You're no different. I know you are a manipulator, it's in your profile." 

"Mark Hoffman. You two were married. Now, if I'm not wrong he was a serial killer. A very famous one. He's the one you called Master." He said and smirked, "Looks like I'm about to take his place." He grabbed her chin and forced her head up and painfully back so she'd have no choice but to look up at him and keep looking. 

"You may become my new Master but you will never take his place." She told him. 

"Oh we have plenty of time to change your mind now. You aren't leaving again. At least not until I can convince you of who's in charge." He said then backhanded her roughly. She cried out, bringing a hand to her face. "Especially since he's been watching you, and I don't need that kind of shadow hanging over my head." 

"What?" She whispered. 

"Shhhhh..." He got down by her and she felt a sharp pain in her neck and the rush of fluid burning through her as he injected something. Her head started to swim. "Don't worry, I'll take very good care of you." Those were the last words she heard before blacking out completely. She was at his mercy now, and all she could hope was what he said was true. That Mark was watching her and he wouldn't allow things to go too far before stepping in. 


End file.
